I Will See My Lover
by Genjutsu-Dragon
Summary: A year has passed since Leliana lost her love to the archdemon. But death is not goodbye. Oneshot. Leliana/F!Cousland. Character Death, Angst.


_WARNING: SPOILERS AND ANGST. Also, this is F!Coulsand/Leliana, so if you find such pairings upsetting for some reasons, all the straight stuff is thataway._

_I finally got the Ultimate Sacrifice achievement, during a romance with Leliana. The insinuation of suicide in the epilogue upset me and I started thinking of a way of twisting the words so that she was happy in the end. Warning: Character Death. Anything you recognise is Bioware's, if not, is mine._

_-Genjutsu-Dragon-_

Walking through the drifts of autumn leaves, Leliana remembered how Myra used to enjoy kicking them up in droves, running through the debris laughing like a child. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost see the armoured woman charging ahead, calling the others to join her. It had always stunned Leliana, after hearing what had happened to the girl's parents, and with the huge responsibilities heaped on her, that she could enjoy such simple pleasures. Perhaps it was what made her appreciate them all the more.

It had been a year now. Every morning started with pain, as she rolled over and saw the empty side of the bed she had unwittingly made space for. Her brain treated her in sleep by recalling the warmth of the other woman's body, the touch of her hands, her soft laugh, but it just made things worse. She had done very little except work on the ballad Alistair had commissioned from her, detailing Myra's life and her love. It was to be presented that night and Leliana was dreading it. Even thinking about Myra made her heart hurt so much she had thought about silencing it with a sword, but she owed better than that to her former lover.

So here she was, walking through the autumn leaves, trying to get all of the tears out before her performance that night. She was performing in honour for Myra and her memory. She could not allow her own feelings to come through. Leliana shut her eyes and a memory of the funeral flashed through her head. Myra, lying so cold and still on that slab, as Alistair spoke over her. Leliana had prayed so hard that when she went over and clasped her lover's hand, that Myra would sit up and stroke her cheek, revived by the Maker for the strength of her love alone. She had thought so much about it that when Myra's body remained still, her broken heart had shattered further. Despite having already wept over the broken form on the tower, that had been the moment that sealed it for Leliana. As soon as the funeral was over, she had packed her things and taken a horse, galloping as far and fast as she could, finally collapsing at the Keep.

She spent the next two months travelling, but no matter where she went Myra's memory followed. Even in places she had never been before, there was an image of somewhere similar she had been with Myra sitting in her mind. She could not return to Orlais, for it would remind her of Marjolaine. She considered going to Antiva, but after Zevran had informed her that a statue of Myra had been commissioned for the capital, that was off limits.

Leliana was seriously beginning to consider heading for Rivain when Alistair's summons arrived.

_It will hurt, I know, _his missive had begun. _But you have been running a long time, and there are people who care for you here, Leliana. I want to ask you to create a ballad worthy of Myra, and the memories you have of her. I do not feel that any other bard in Thedas would come close to describing what a wonderful, complex person she was, and I believe that your love for her will make it all the more powerful. Myra deserves no less than to be a legend, and I want your help in making her so._

Leliana had considered throwing the summons away, but the thought of Denerim and seeing Alistair again filled her with a surprisingly comfortable ache. It was time to return, but she needed to visit the tomb on Weisshaupt on the way first.

It was magnificent, a solid slab of pure white stone with a perfect likeness of Myra standing atop it, alongside the other Grey Wardens who had given their lives in the ultimate sacrifice. It made her seem colder and more distant than ever before, and Leliana had to clear the throat several times before she could speak.

"I'm sorry I've not visited you, my love," she said, her voice choking with tears. "I've been so lonely and you've been in my mind every day. I don't know how I'm going to live without you but I will keep trying." She fished some flowers out of the pouch at her waist. "I thought you might like these. Remember when you first gave some to me? I was amazed that you had remembered what I said about my mother, and that you had gone out of your way to pick them for me. That was the first day I felt myself falling in love with you. I still remember you standing there, looking so baffled when I put one in your hair and then I started laughing because you were in full armour with a f-fu-flower in your hair…" Leliana's voice broke completely and she knelt before the tomb, pressing her forehead to the cold stone, grief pouring out of her. Even after the funeral, her capacity for tears was apparently untapped. She remained there a while, her body racked with sobs.

Once she had regained herself, she placed the small bouquet of Andraste's Grace before the tomb, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "I will try to be strong, like you asked. I will live for you, for always, my love, and I only pray that we will see each other again." She turned and walked away, fighting the impulse to look back.

Alistair had welcomed her back at court with open arms. Wynne had also been there, and for the first month had accompanied Leliana almost everywhere, a silent companion for whom Leliana was very grateful. She was given space to grieve when she needed it, and she worked steadily on her ballad, constantly playing, singing, changing, improving. She knew it would be her masterpiece and that hurt; for every time she played it would remind her of Myra, and she would be asked to play it, a lot.

Now it was the afternoon before the performance, and Leliana was paying homage to Myra in a different way. She idly kicked up the leaves as she walked, imagining Myra's laugh, the feeling of the woman's hand in hers as they shuffled through the drifts together. She shut her eyes and remembered Myra pulling her around and in for a kiss that was either soft and gentle, or filled with promise for later.

She needed a nap before that evening. Sighing, she dragged herself back into the castle, found her way to the room, and slept.

_She was standing on top of the tallest tower in the moonlight. The whole of Denerim was spread before her, and she shut her eyes. Even now, there was building work going on, repairing the damage caused by the final battle. There were too many memories here, and she recalled Myra standing up to Marjolaine for her, yelling her trust in Leliana for the world to hear. That had been the moment when Leliana began realising truly how the Warden felt for her. I will not weep again, she murmured. I have cried too much already._

_A strong pair of arms, familiar and warm, wrapped around her._

"_Good evening, my bard," whispered a soft voice. Leliana reached up a hand to touch Myra's cheek._

"_This is a dream," she said, her heart aching for the sight of her Warden. She turned and beheld Myra, who looked better than Leliana recalled ever having seen her. Their lips touched and Leliana gave in to the beautiful illusion. After a short while, however, Myra pulled away._

"_The Maker has heard your pain, Leliana," she said, her voice heavy. "As did I. I have begged Him ever since you visited my tomb to allow me to take you back with me, and-" she grasped Leliana's hands, tightly. It felt too real. "-He has said yes."_

"_This is a dream," Leliana repeated. "When I wake you, you will be gone and my heart will break all over again." Myra's eyes were filled with tears and her voice was pleading._

"_Please, please just come to the tower tonight," she said. "After you have performed. Heaven is hell for me, as I hear your pain every day. Please?" _

_Leliana knew it was a dream. She knew it was simply her mind creating what she truly wanted, and she was lining up to break her heart yet again. But looking into her lover's green eyes, she could not refuse._

"_I promise."_

_Myra's smile stretched wide across her face and she pulled her lover in for a kiss. "See you tonight. Be strong." Leliana nodded as the tower and Myra dissolved about her._

She sat up with a gasp, still feeling Myra's lips on hers. She rubbed her eyes, angry with herself that she could still be affected by such illusions. She would _not_ go to the tower tonight – she would not put her hopes into something that ever again. Annoyed with herself, she swung her legs out of bed –

And froze. Decorating the floor were hundreds and hundreds of Andraste's Grace.

Her door had been bolted and she had no window. Nobody could have come in.

As she knelt to gather up a handful and breathe in their smell, she felt a presence behind her. She knew, now, that it had been no illusion, and Myra was standing right behind her, waiting. She smiled through tear-filled eyes.

"Thank you, my love," she said, as the presence faded away. "I will see you tonight."

She spent the rest of the evening preparing herself. Her hair was beautifully styled and she was dressed in the finest that Alistair could buy. Her lute was a new one, well crafted and strung, and she danced her fingers across it, a little melancholy that she would only get to play it once. The maid who helped her do her hair noticed with surprise the smile on the bard's face.

"My lady, you appear happier than I have seen in quite some time," she commented. Leliana's smile widened.

"I have had a vision," she said, ignoring the maid's startled look. "…I will be reunited with my lover soon." The maid had made no comment. She assumed that either Leliana was mad or that she had finally found somebody to help ease the pain of Myra's passing. From then until Leliana headed for the great hall, she was silent. Before she left, however, she returned to her room, picking a single flower from the floor and placing it in her hair.

All the nobility of Ferelden was there. There was a small honour guard of Wardens in one corner, and Leliana greeted Eamon, Teagan, and Alistair courteously. There was a feast beforehand, although Leliana had little stomach for it. When Alistair announced her, she stood on extremely shaky legs, and was grateful when Teagan offered his arm to her, walking her over to her place. A breath of air cooled the back of her neck.

_Be strong, Leliana. _

She curled on the cushion, feeling soothed by Myra's presence. She gave a quick introduction, and began to sing.

Her voice rose and lowered in the Great Hall for nearly an hour, and everybody was silent, listening, enraptured. The adventure, the love, the travel, the sacrifice. As she finished her mourning stanza, her voice capturing all the sorrow and pain of Myra's death without breaking, not a single person in the hall had dry eyes. There was silence, and Leliana stood and left. As she walked through the door, applause broke out, and cheering.

She did not pause. She headed straight for the tower, hoping against hope. And there she was, Myra, solid and beautiful, reaching out her arms for Leliana.

"My bard, that was beautiful," she choked. "You are amazing." She was real, and warm, and this time Leliana truly felt her.

"Are you going to stay?"

"No," Myra said. "It is your choice if you return with me or not." Leliana smiled.

"I think you know what my choice is. I feel sorry for Alistair but I can't lose you again." Myra caught her chin and pulled her in for another kiss.

"I have missed you so much," she said. Leliana remained clinging to her, feeling the tower melt away beneath her feet. They were flying upwards, clasped together, towards something huge and light. It enveloped Leliana and all the grief and pain and bad memories of her life fell away as she and Myra walked across a giant stone bridge, heading for the Golden City.

They found her the following morning on top of the tower. Her body was cold and a small smile curved her lips. Crushed in one hand was a single, white flower.


End file.
